


The Refuge of Hope

by purplehairedwonder



Series: Not Words 'verse [11]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplehairedwonder/pseuds/purplehairedwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's entire world—every interaction with Kurt, Sebastian, New Directions, and the Warblers—had tilted on its axis. Because of a tape. Tenth in the Not Words 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Refuge of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a quote by philosopher Henri Frederic Amiel: “Uncertainty is the refuge of hope.”

“How did you get that?”

“Hummel.”

Blaine sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

“Santana came to Dalton after you were hurt,” Sebastian said. “She got that on tape.”

“No,” Blaine said, shaking his head. Sebastian was wrong.

“Kurt gave the tape to me and said that he wanted to ‘take the high road,’” Sebastian continued over Blaine’s interruption, making air quotes with a grimace, “by beating the Warblers at Regionals.”

Blaine felt his knees give out and he dropped heavily onto the end of Sebastian’s bed. That wasn’t possible. There hadn’t been any evidence, which was why nothing had even come of the complaint filed against Dalton. There was no evidence that Kurt most certainly hadn’t turned over without asking Blaine.

Kurt knew how helpless Blaine had felt after the dance, how he’d never gotten a fair shot at justice. That Blaine’s only recourse in the wake of a hate crime was to pack up his life and transfer to a private school because there had been _no_ _evidence_ against the three guys who’d put him and his date in the hospital.

Kurt wouldn’t keep something like that, not when he knew better than most what it felt like to be bullied and threatened to the point of fearing for your life, only to have the threats continue because there was _no_ _proof_ that it was going on.

Blaine simply couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“I didn’t realize until that night at your parents’ house that you hadn’t known about the tape.”

Sebastian’s his voice sounded far away as Blaine felt his entire world—every interaction with Kurt, hell, with all of the old New Directions and even the Warblers—tilting on its axis. They’d all been lying to him all this time.

The mattress dipped as Sebastian sat down next to him. He grabbed Blaine’s hand, which hung limply between his knees, and placed the tape in it.

“Take it.”

Blaine’s hand tightened around it and, for a moment, he contemplated just crushing it and pretending that he’d never heard it. That would be the easiest for everyone involved, wouldn’t it?  But he couldn’t do it.

He turned the tape over in his fingers. It was such a small thing to be responsible for so much damage. There was a _Lord of the Rings_ joke in there, but Blaine wasn’t in the mood to make it.

“Why didn’t you destroy it?” Blaine asked, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears. If anyone would’ve benefitted from the tape’s destruction, it was Sebastian.

Sebastian shrugged. “I tried a couple of times, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I kept hearing you screaming and…” He trailed off and shook his head. “And after Karofsky, I just—I buried it in the drawer. As a reminder.”

Blaine dropped his face into his hands, the tape digging into his palm. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Blaine—”

He wasn’t going to cry; he’d already shed all the tears he was going to over Kurt Hummel. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.

“They’ve been lying to me. All this time. God, even Sam and Tina,” Blaine realized, scrubbing at his eyes. It was all too much. He pushed himself to his feet and pocketed the tape, glancing everywhere around the room but at Sebastian. “I have to go. I can’t—I need some time.”

Sebastian slowly rose to his feet. “You probably shouldn’t be driving right now, Killer.”

Blaine finally turned to Sebastian and gave him a helpless look. What was he _supposed_ to do?

Sebastian grabbed the coat and scarf from the end of the bed and handed them to Blaine. “I’ll drive you home.”

* * *

 

Blaine handed over his keys mutely when Sebastian stuck his hand out after pulling shoes and a coat on. The drive was silent as Blaine sat in the passenger seat of his own car, the tape a heavy weight in his pocket. When they pulled into Blaine’s driveway after what could’ve been hours or minutes, Blaine frowned at Sebastian, a thought occurring to him.

“How’re you going to get home?”

Sebastian cut off the engine. “I called Thad before we left. He should be here soon.”

“Oh.” Blaine blinked, still clearly out of it. “Well thanks. For driving.”

Sebastian nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but a familiar car pulled up at the curb, diverting his attention. “I guess that’s my ride.”

They shared a quick, chaste kiss before Sebastian was returning Blaine’s keys and getting into Thad’s car. Thad waved at Blaine but he stayed in the car, much to Blaine’s relief. Blaine gave a short wave back.

Once Thad and Sebastian had driven off, Blaine walked into his house and trudged up the stairs without a word to his family in the living room—because where could he even begin to explain why he was upset? _“Hey, so remember when I almost lost an eye and I said I didn’t remember? Well, that was a lie because there was no evidence and I didn’t want to worry you like after the dance. It turns out there was evidence after all, but my then-boyfriend gave it to the guy who assaulted me, who, by the way, I’m dating now”_? He shut his bedroom door and leaned heavily against it.

Without turning the lights on, he slid to the floor and took the tape out of his pocket. He eyed it warily before grabbing his phone and hitting 2 on his speed dial.

 _“Hey man,”_ Sam greeted. _“Did you meet up with Seb—”_

“Did you know?” Blaine demanded.

_“—astian? Wait, did I know what?”_

“That there was a tape with Sebastian admitting to putting rock salt in the slushie that put me in the hospital,” Blaine replied through gritted teeth.

Sam was his best friend, had helped pull him up from rock bottom when he was drowning senior year and kept him afloat in the wake of cutting ties with Kurt, so the thought that he could’ve been lying to Blaine about something so important felt like a complete betrayal.

Or the only betrayal Blaine felt equipped to process tonight, anyway.

 _“Yeah,”_ Sam said hesitantly, and Blaine’s stomach dropped. _“Santana went to Dalton after you got hurt. Something about underboob?”_

Blaine shut his eyes and dropped his head back against his door with a thunk. “And you just handed it over?” he asked, gutted. He felt like such a fool.

 _“Kurt did,”_ Sam replied slowly, like he was trying to figure out what was going on. _“Wait. Did—Did you not know?”_

Blaine couldn’t help the choked sound that escaped him. “No. Sebastian showed me the tape tonight.”

 _“Ah hell,”_ Sam said, sounding pained himself. _“Look man, we thought that was your call—that you_ knew _. Kurt was so sure.”_

“You didn’t know,” Blaine echoed, feeling like he’d had his chest carved out. So it wasn’t that everyone had been lying to him—not on purpose anyway. Just the person he was supposed to trust most.

He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

_“No. Hey, are you okay? You need me to come a few days early?”_

Sam was planning to drive back to Ohio from Kentucky and spend a few of nights, including the New Year’s Eve party, with Blaine before Blaine left for—

Paris.

Blaine groaned. Sebastian was leaving for Paris in the morning, and Blaine had been a complete zombie when they’d parted ways.

“No,” he replied wearily, opening his eyes again. “That’s okay. I just… Spend the time with your family. Give them my best. I’ll see you in a few days.”

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yeah. Thanks, Sam.”

After they hung up, Blaine stared at the tape for a few moments longer before sending Sebastian a text: _Have a safe flight tomorrow._ Then he shut off his phone, kicked his boots off, and climbed into bed. He pretended to be asleep when his mother knocked on his door half an hour later and stared at the ceiling late into the night.

* * *

Blaine was pulled out of sleep by his door slamming open and a cheerful call of, “Up and at ‘em, Blainey!” Blaine opened his eyes and immediately shut them again when he saw Cooper standing in his doorway.

“Go ‘way, Coop,” Blaine groaned, pulling his comforter over his head. He’d finally drifted into a fitful sleep around four, so any time before noon was too early to be awake.

Blaine’s eyes flew open again and he yelped in surprise as his mattress bounced heavily. He sat up, pulling the comforter off to see Cooper, his eyes were wide with a wicked grin, kneeling on the end of Blaine’s bed.

“You’re insane,” Blaine informed him. “Certifiable.”

“C’mon little brother,” Cooper practically whined. “Mom and Dad went back to work today and I’m bored.”

Blaine glanced at his clock—8:32—and ran a hand over his face. “Cooper—”

“You’re not going to leave your brother all alone on his last full day at home, are you?”

Blaine sighed and resigned himself to not getting any more sleep, though he desperately needed it. “Fine.”

Cooper’s expression lit up and he jostled Blaine’s foot. “Awesome! Hurry up and get dressed.”

“Can’t this wait like an hour?” Blaine asked around a yawn.

“Absolutely not, Squirt,” Cooper replied, getting off the bed and heading for the door. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Blaine. “Got to fill up the time we have together, you know,” he said before shutting the door.

Blaine flopped back against his pillow. How was he supposed to be annoyed after a guilt trip like that?

* * *

Once Blaine got dressed, Cooper commandeered his keys and took them out for breakfast—Blaine was too grateful for a fresh cup of coffee after a short night to be annoyed at his brother driving his car. He kept the conversation steered toward himself and the auditions he had coming up when he got back to L.A. After breakfast, they ended up walking through the Westerville mall, Cooper heading into the department stores and picking up increasingly ugly shirts and bowties until Blaine laughed.

But it took for Cooper pulling into a bowling alley parking lot after lunch with a mischievous glint in his eye for Blaine to realize what Cooper was doing—he was taking them places Blaine wasn’t likely to run into any of his friends and then distracting him despite not knowing why Blaine was upset. Blaine felt a pang at the reminder of the tape sitting on his nightstand before it was squashed under a wave of affection for his brother.

The bowling alley was less than half full with parents and their kids on winter vacation when they walked in. Once they paid for their games, Cooper grabbed his shoes and gestured at Blaine with them.

“Don’t take this for granted, Blainey. Even the most random of places can help you hone your craft. After all,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “acting is all about _stepping into someone else’s shoes_.”

Blaine’s lips twitched, but he still groaned at the pun. “Coop, that’s terrible.” But he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the pleased look on his brother’s face as he threw an arm over Blaine’s shoulders and steered them toward their assigned lane.

Cooper, it turned out, was a pretty decent bowler. Blaine hadn’t been bowling in a while—the last time was probably with the Warblers, he realized—so it took a few frames before he found a rhythm. Then he and Cooper were matching strikes and spares (and the occasional gutter ball) and talking a bit of trash as the games wore on. They ended up bowling three games; Cooper won the first, Blaine the second, and though Blaine was convinced Cooper had thrown the third game, he couldn’t prove it.

Still, Blaine felt lighter than he had in what felt like months as he and Cooper headed out into the parking lot. It had started snowing lightly while they were inside, and there was a light dusting of white on the pavement that crunched under the soles of Blaine’s shoes as he walked.

Once they were buckled in, Cooper started the engine but left the car in park. When he remained silent, Blaine turned to look at his brother only to find a serious look on his face. That was never a good sign, Blaine thought, and his shoulders tensed up in anticipation.

“I don’t know what happened yesterday,” Cooper said at last, looking out the front windshield while his fingers tightened around the steering wheel, “and I’m not going to ask.”

“Okay?” Blaine asked, still waiting for the punch.

“Just.” Cooper sighed and released the steering wheel then shifted to face Blaine. “You don’t have to please everyone all the time, Blaine. Especially your ex.”

Blaine swallowed and looked down at his lap. “I—”

“Remember that you deserve to be happy too, little brother. Okay?”

Blaine blinked heavily before looking back up at his brother. “Thanks, Cooper.”

Cooper watched him for a moment, as if studying to see if the message had been received, then he nodded to himself. “Okay,” he said, putting the car into gear. “Mom and Dad should be home by now with dinner.” He grinned. “And you know how Mom gets with food the night before anyone leaves.”

Blaine laughed, feeling the tension melt from his shoulders. “Then what are we waiting for?”

* * *

Blaine looked up from his closet at a knock at his door, and he nearly dropped the shirt he’d pulled from its hanger. Kurt was the last person he’d expected to be standing there—and seeing him made Blaine’s chest clench.

He was also suddenly very aware of the tape recorder sitting on his desk. He hadn’t decided what to do with it yet; it seemed masochistic to bring it with him, yet the thought of leaving it behind made Blaine uneasy for some reason.

“Kurt,” Blaine greeted, not masking his surprise.

“Your mom said to come up,” Kurt replied, tearing his eyes away from the half-filled luggage on the bed to look at Blaine, an unreadable look on his face.

“Oh.” That surprised Blaine a bit; his family had been rather protective since they’d cut ties—and doubly so since the night Blaine found out about the tape, though they hadn’t known what the problem was.

“Are you going somewhere?” Kurt asked, taking a hesitant step into Blaine’s room as though he’d never been there before.

Blaine licked his bottom lip nervously before nodding. “Paris.”

Kurt’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Paris?” he echoed.

With Cooper’s words echoing in the back of his mind ( _“You don’t have to please everyone all the time, Blaine. Especially your ex”_ ), Blaine took a breath and raised his chin. “Yes. Sebastian’s mother lives there. He always spends New Year’s with her and she invited me to visit.”

“Oh.” Kurt shook his head as though he was coming out of a reverie. Kurt had always wanted to go to Paris. “I’d always assumed he was lying about Paris.”

“You know what they say about assuming.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Blaine’s tone. When Blaine didn’t back down he frowned but remained silent.

“What are you doing here, Kurt?” Blaine asked once it was clear Kurt wasn’t going to speak unprompted.

“You never called. About New Year’s.”

He’d had a number of calls and texts from Kurt that he hadn’t responded to since that night. Every time he saw the familiar number flash on his screen, his knees felt weak and his stomach turned, so he ignored it.

“I got busy.”

And that was true enough—after the day with Cooper, Blaine had made sure to fill his days to the brim, from driving Cooper to the airport and meeting Mike for coffee to having brunch with Tina (she’d given the same answer as Sam when Blaine asked about the tape) and spending quality time with the heavy bag in the basement. There was also a Warbler get together and the new New Directions New Year’s Eve party at Marley’s. And Sam had arrived on New Year’s Eve and left just that morning.

Sam knew Blaine well and had read his mood immediately, so they’d packed their time together with movies and jam sessions and working on their Nightbird and Blond Chameleon comic book, a vanity project they’d started in high school and always came back to on school breaks or for stress relief.

Being busy kept Blaine from thinking too much about the cassette sitting in the cheap tape player he’d bought to listen to the damn thing and the betrayal he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to fully process.

“You promised to always answer my calls,” Kurt said quietly.

Blaine pressed his lips together. “That was a long time ago,” he replied, watching the recognition of their last phone call flash across Kurt’s face before it was replaced with hurt. Part of Blaine would always hate being the source of that look on Kurt’s face, but he still felt too raw to bring himself to feel guilty.

“Are… Are you okay, Blaine?” Kurt asked. “You seem…”

“What?”

“Angry.”

Blaine shut his eyes for a moment, remembering what Sebastian had said. _“Kurt gave the tape to me and said that he wanted to ‘take the high road’ by beating the Warblers at Regionals.”_

He opened his eyes again and watched the confusion evident on Kurt’s face before making a decision. He walked over to his desk and grabbed the tape player. Without glancing back at Kurt, he pressed play.

_“What did you put in that slushie?”_

Kurt inhaled sharply, which somehow seemed more damning that anything Blaine had heard yet. Without Kurt’s reaction, there was still an off-chance that all of this was a ploy and that Kurt really hadn’t been involved. But that one sound…

Kurt knew.

_“Rock salt.”_

Blaine hit stop and put the tape recorder back on the desk before turning around to face Kurt. He leaned back against the desk and used it to brace himself as the color drained from Kurt’s face.

“Where did you get that?” he whispered.

“After I left your house, I went to Sebastian’s. He gave it to me.”

For a long moment, Kurt was silent. Then he shook his head and muttered, “Of course he did. Look, Blaine—”

“Just tell me one thing, Kurt,” Blaine said, cutting him off.

“Anything.”

“Why?” Blaine asked, fingers digging painfully into the wood of his desk. “Why would you give that up without asking me? And why would you then lie about it to my face?”

“Blaine—” Kurt started, arms wrapping around his middle protectively.

“What if we’d wanted to press charges?” Blaine went on, a lump forming in the back of his throat.

“Did you?” Kurt asked, looking torn. “Want to press charges?”

“I don’t know. I never thought it was an option.”

Blaine still remembered his parents’ drawn expressions through the haze of pain and morphine at the hospital; he’d known that any attempts at pursuing what had happened would only deepen those looks, and after the debacle that was Sadie Hawkins, Blaine hadn’t wanted that. And yet, a piece of evidence might have made all the difference.

For a long moment, Kurt just stared at Blaine, looking miserable. But then his face closed off and his posture straightened. Kurt dropped his hands, balled into fists, to his sides and raised his chin. Blaine was watching Kurt’s armor fall into place right in front of him.

“I did the best I could at the time,” he replied coolly. “It’s what I thought you would’ve wanted. You always hated confrontation.”

“You, of all people, should understand how important that evidence would’ve been to me. After everything at my old school,” Blaine countered, forcing his fingers to let go of the edge of his desk.

“There was no guarantee—”

“Not without any evidence there wasn’t.”

Kurt clenched his jaw. “You don’t understand what it was like, Blaine. Watching you get hurt like that.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “I wanted to _hurt_ Sebastian. Hell, to hurt all of the Warblers. But I knew you wouldn’t want that.”

“So you gave away evidence that could’ve—” Blaine asked, cutting himself off with a choked sound.

“His father’s a State’s Attorney. Do you really think it would’ve gotten very far?” Kurt retorted bitterly. “Besides, competition was the only language he understood. It was the best option.”

Blaine gaped at Kurt. “And why was that your decision?”

“That slushie was meant for _me_.”

“But _I_ ended up in the hospital.” Somehow Blaine always ended up hurt when it came to people he trusted. “But it wasn’t just me, Kurt. My _family_ had to go through that again.”

“And now you’re dating the guy who threw it. I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t turn the tape in after all,” Kurt said coldly.

“We hardly have room to begrudge others second chances, Kurt,” Blaine said quietly.

“Right,” Kurt said, bristling. “I forgot. He’s ‘changed.’ He turned over a new leaf.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you think he gave that tape to you now, Blaine?”

Blaine blinked. ”I—”

“He’s had it since your junior year of high school, but he conveniently waits to tell you about it until we start trying to be friends again.” Kurt shook his head. “I’m not the only one who’s kept things from you.”

“At least I’ve always known what to expect from Sebastian,” Blaine snapped back.

Though that wasn’t really true, was it?

“Blaine—”

“I really need to pack, Kurt,” Blaine said, suddenly exhausted; it was like the energy had been completely sucked from him as he watched Kurt.

“Fine. Have a nice trip,” Kurt said with an icy look before turning on his heel and walking out.

Blaine listened to his retreating footsteps down the stairs and to the front door opening and shutting before he dropped to the floor, his back against his desk. He hugged his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them as he listened to Kurt’s car pull out of the driveway.

* * *

Blaine lay in Sebastian’s bed with his back to the other boy in the dark. Blaine knew he should’ve been exhausted from an early morning international flight and some sightseeing with Sebastian, Julia, and Jean once he’d arrived in Paris, but he’d been tense since Kurt had come to see him and nothing had been able to help him relax. He’d barely been able to kiss Sebastian in greeting when he’d arrived, and now he felt strange sharing space with him.

 _You’re being ridiculous_ , he kept telling himself, but Kurt’s words kept echoing in the back of his mind.

_“Why do you think he gave that tape to you now, Blaine?”_

Blaine screwed his eyes shut. He trusted Sebastian; he loved him and he’d forgiven the baggage between them. So why couldn’t he shake the unease he felt?

“You’ve been quiet,” Sebastian murmured into the darkness from somewhere behind Blaine.

Blaine opened his eyes. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a measure of uncertainty in Sebastian’s voice that almost had Blaine spilling the whole story. But he swallowed down his explanation and instead rolled over to face Sebastian, who lay on his back. Sebastian lifted a hesitant arm in invitation, and Blaine only wavered a moment before scooting over to rest his head on Sebastian’s chest while Sebastian curled an arm around his shoulders.

_“I’m not the only one who’s kept things from you.”_

“I’m sure,” Blaine replied.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Sebastian admitted after a few silent moments.

Blaine looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

“To Paris,” Sebastian clarified, running a hand gently up and down Blaine’s arm.

Blaine frowned. “Why wouldn’t I come?”

“After everything with the tape, I thought you might not want anything to do with me.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Not that I’d blame you if you were pissed.”

Blaine shifted so he was half-hovering over Sebastian. The other boy’s eyes glinted in the dark as he watched Blaine with a measure of wariness. “I’m not mad at you.” Uncertain of, yes. Confused by, sure. Wondering at his motives, definitely. But not mad. “I’ve just been trying to work some things through. But I would’ve come even if I _was_ mad.”

Julia’s invitation had been too generous for Blaine to even consider turning down, especially when his parents had offered to pay for the trip as his Christmas gift.

“I love you,” Sebastian said, reaching up to run a finger down Blaine’s cheek. He always sounded so awed when he said it, which was incredibly humbling.

“I love you, too,” Blaine replied with a wan smile.

He settled back down with his head on Sebastian’s chest while Sebastian reclaimed his grip around Blaine’s shoulders. Unable to sleep, Blaine listened to Sebastian’s heartbeat into the early morning hours. Sebastian’s breathing never evened out into sleep either.


End file.
